Impotence
by RaggedClaws42
Summary: He was quiet for a moment then his eyes trailed down to Havoc's waist until they rested on sheets covering his impaired limbs. "They said you were paralyzed from the waist down; is everything paralyzed,"


I was watching Brotherhood with my sister last night and she pointed out that if Havoc had been paralyzed from the waist down it was very likely that his groin area was paralyzed as well. I hadn't thought about it but I realized that that would be probably be one of the worst effects of that type of injury and immediately felt really bad for Havoc, whose main joy in life was dating. This story is a product of me trying to imagine what that would have been like for someone like Havoc to go through.

Breaks in the page signal a new time frame. The first two sections of the story occur during the time-frame of the original series and the other three are all post-series.

*Edit: I changed "colonial" to "colonel." Thank you guys for pointing that out to me; I was so embarrassed I made that mistake, but grateful to have reviewers kind enough to catch it for me.

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist belongs to Hiromu Arakawa. This is a fan interpretation of Arakawa's work that is in no way related to its prospective owners

Jean Havoc twitched his half finished cigarette between his lips. It was the only one he had been allotted for the day, and he inhaled sharply in order to consume as much of its nicotine effects as he could muster. He didn't think he had ever craved a cigarette so badly until after he had been scooped off the bloody floor in the third laboratory and relocated to a sterile hospital room where they monitored his nicotine uses like vultures waiting on a rodent to die.

This was also probably the first time Havoc had ever hated being in a place so heavily occupied by women as well. He couldn't even bring himself to be remotely interested in any of them, which in all of the times he had been a single bachelor was unheard of. But then again, it was pretty hard to be interested in someone that had to help him take a crap a couple of times a day; once someone has seen that level of vulnerability in another individual romantic wooing of all kinds falls flat.

Besides even if his last girlfriend hadn't just tried to kill him, Jean didn't feel confident enough to want to see anybody. In fact, he didn't really know if he'd ever feel self-assured enough to explore that particular realm of life again. A draft caused the end of his cigarette to blow out, but before Havoc could even utter a curse a gloved hand appeared to quickly relight it. "Thanks Colonel," Havoc said puffing out the last couple of drags on the shorting butt.

"How're you doing there, Havoc?" Colonel Mustang asked settling himself on the opposing hospital cot, "Not going to use this time to cut down on old habits I see."

Havoc shrugged apathetically, "The way they're regulating me I pretty much have to."

"I received your official resignation today. Are you really going through with retiring?" Mustang said tensing his jaw. Havoc nodded grateful that the pillows propping him up made it so he had to look out in front of him; he didn't have to meet the Colonel's face head on this way. He figured the Colonel wasn't going to stay quiet about his decision, and it bothered him. He hated feeling like an incompetent bystander, but it would be even worse to feel like weight slowly dragging his team down.

Mustang seemed to pick up on Havoc's train of thoughts. He was quiet for a moment then his eyes trailed down to Havoc's waist until they rested on sheets covering his impaired limbs. "They said you were paralyzed from the waist down; is everything paralyzed," the Colonel asked bringing his eyes back up to meet Havoc's so that there could be no question as to how serious the Colonel took his answer to be.

Havoc stared forward stubbornly at the white washed hospital wall. In retrospect, Havoc didn't really care what he was looking at so long as it wasn't the Colonel and his damn impertinent questions. He didn't know if he should admire the Colonel for having the balls to ask something no self-respecting man would ever ask or hate his guts for bring up the last thing in the world Havoc wanted to think about. He knew that it probably showed the level that the Colonel cared about him, but at the moment he wished the Colonel cared a whole lot less.

"Yeah," Havoc said unable to keep his brows from furrowing as he kept his eyes trained in front of him, "everything."

"Jesus, Havoc," Mustang exclaimed running a distressed hair through his coarse black hair.

Jesus was right, but at the moment Havoc could have done without the sympathy. Havoc didn't really want to admit how much that admission had cost him. Hell, it was bad enough not being able to walk anymore, but to not even be able to feel like a man anymore made Havoc feel more worthless than he thought possible. He had known when he joined the military that injury and death was always a possibility, but he had never imagined that he would be injured in this way.

Out of the corner of his eye, Havoc could see that the Colonel had fixed him with a cold stern stare. Havoc figured that he should probably say something to let the Colonel know that it didn't really matter; tell him that he had never been good with girls anyway, especially, considering that if it hadn't been for his last girlfriend he wouldn't be in his current predicament. But for some reason, Havoc couldn't make his mouth moist enough to produce words; his throat was scratchy and dry as if one of the giant cotton balls the nurses had used to cleanse his wounds had lodged itself in there.

Mustang wouldn't have bought Jean's excuses anyway. He understood the implications of Havoc's injury fully, and knew what it would mean for him. As a man and fellow lover of women, Mustang had to know just how much it psychologically hurt Havoc to have become impotent.

"We're going to fix this," Mustang stated turning the full wave of his brazen resolve on Havoc, "you're not going to live like this."

If Mustang had been a poker player, Jean might have believed him. As it was, Mustang was a chess player, and if Havoc could add his two cents, a bad one. He almost never won a game; being too concerned about keeping all of his pieces, and not concerned enough about putting his opponent in checkmate. Havoc knew that he was one of those pieces.

He wanted to laugh. He wanted to puke too, but whatever pride he still clung to refused to allow him to appear any weaker than he already felt. The Colonel was such an idealist that of course he would be determined to return Havoc to his former state. Havoc, however, was a realist; medical professionals clearly laid out to him what his future would be. Nerve damage is no joking matter; they don't heal the way muscles and tissues do. Only visionaries and alchemist think that they can combat nature to be something other than what it is. Anything other than helping Jean accept the truth was sure to crush him in the end.

Havoc couldn't hope for recovery only to be let down. He couldn't take feeling any lower than he already did. He'd probably kill himself if he did.

"I'm going now Havoc," Mustang said hardening his voice into that familiar superior commanding a subordinate sound, "Don't you dare think this is over. I'm not done with you yet."

Havoc watch as Mustang marched out of the room angrily slamming the door to Havoc's room shut behind him. He listened as Mustang's footsteps rampaged down the hall jostling nurses as he passed. "Jesus," Havoc sighed, "why is it that no matter now set I am on not getting my hopes up, you always come in and make me think otherwise?"

…

Havoc figured it wasn't so bad. At least now he could pull his own ass up on the toilet seat, and there was no one around to watch his nicotine usage. He even had a wheelchair so that he wasn't dependent on everyone else to get around. But Hell, anything was better than being trapped in that damn hospital room.

He had been keeping busy managing his parents' shop. It was lucky for Havoc that his family specialized in military type weapons as his time in the military away from the shop hadn't lessened his knowledge of the wares. He was more than able to help prospective customers locate the exact weapon they would need for whatever purposes they sought to fulfill. But that didn't mean he was happy.

Years back before Havoc was even a greenhorn, he decided to ditch out of the backwoods country shop to actually utilize the knowledge he had spent his childhood gaining. The town was slow, and located far enough from the border not to stir up much trouble; Havoc could barely stand it. He wanted the action and esteem that could only be experienced by an active soldier in the military. Besides there just weren't enough good looking girls in this town to hold his interest, but he supposes that sort of thing didn't matter now.

The small shop bell jiggled as a busty blacked haired woman barged loudly in. The woman placed her hands obstinately on her hips and look avidly around the shop. Havoc felt his lip twitch as he brought the cigarette from his mouth to allow a full smile to cross his face. He hadn't much enjoy the constant stream of visitor he received in Central, all of which fixed him heavily with demands that he perform some sort of miracle on himself to get better. But now that he hadn't had many visitors since returning to his family's shop, Havoc couldn't help but miss the contact.

Rebecca Catalina might not have been particularly close with Havoc, but they had formed a good working relationship during his time under General Grumman in the East. Rebecca's expertise in weaponry gave the two of them even more of camaraderie, but that wasn't why he was happy to see her. It was just damn hard to feel sorry for oneself when Rebecca was around; she didn't waste much time on sentimental empathy.

"What can I do you for Miss," Havoc said rolling his chair out from behind the shop counter, "We got a lovely new tea set in if you're interested."

Rebecca smirked at him as she made her way across the general store to reach him. "Never been much of a tea drinker. Now if you have anything stronger I might be more interested."

"You can always give it to somebody as a present; maybe you have a boss or someone that might get some use out of it. After all," Havoc said meaningfully, "it comes all the way from central."

"When you put it that way I think I might just want that set after all," Rebecca said leaning her side against the counter. They both shared a knowing grin. Because of Havoc's shop was located almost midway between the Central offices and the Eastern command, Havoc had been acting as an intermediate between Mustang's forces and Grumman's troops. It was almost a perfect camouflage as no one thought to question why military officers might be paying somewhat frequent calls to an injured soldier. But what the military saw as pity for a fallen man, Mustang had seen as a perfect excuse to move information under the military's radar. They weren't going to send surveillance over a crippled ex-lieutenant running a general store no matter how close he had been to the Colonel.

"I'll get it wrapped up for you," Havoc said wheeling back to pull a package from under the counter. "So," Havoc continued placing his now mostly burned cigarette back in his mouth, "find yourself a man yet?"

Rebecca's shoulders slumped notably before she straightened herself out and began her long bitch about how all men were broke cowards and there was no good ones left. Havoc chuckled familiar with the routine, he was glad she hadn't changed since he transferred to central.

Rebecca was a simple girl and he liked that; he was a simple guy after all. He kind of wondered why the two of them had never hooked up when he was back in Eastern command as they both had focused most of their free time trying to get dates. But he guessed neither of them had exactly been looking for someone in the military. Dating while in the military was complicated enough without the added issues of dating between ranks.

Besides what Rebecca was looking for was marriage and potentially kids, and that was something Havoc wouldn't have been able to give her in his current state. Hell, he couldn't even give her a one night stand.

Shaking his head to keep from lingering too much on the thought, Havoc began unfolding tissue paper to wrap the tea set up in. "Is everything prepared," Havoc asked lowering his voice to a whisper.

Rebecca stop mid-rant and leaned herself further along the counter. "Very nearly. The general has been gathering arms for a full scale coup-d'état. So long as the conflict is fought in the East we'll be set." Her ability to casually switch upon Havoc's interruption impressed him slightly.

"And what about in Central? Are we fully armed there too?"

Rebecca shrugged uncertainly, "That's Mustang's jurisdiction."

Havoc sighed heavily, knowing Mustang that meant that gathering men would have been more important to the Colonel than securing his artillery. The Colonel placed far too much trust in his own flame alchemy and not enough old-fashioned firearms, while the Colonel's skill was admittedly impressive there were enough occasions where Mustang's skill was rendered useless to show the Colonel the folly of his arrogance. Lieutenant Hawkeye would likely have placed more attention into arming the men, but she was under the Fuhrer's control now and if the encrypted message she passed along was correct, Fuhrer Bradley wasn't the only Homunculus she was dealing with.

Havoc wished he was still an active member of the Colonel's battalion. If he had been, he would have been able to make sure that they had everything they needed to confront Central. He felt so damn useless not being able to aid his friends. If it wasn't for his injury, he could be out there right now. He could be fighting. He could be doing something at any rate.

"I'm not done with you yet."

The Colonel's voice reverberated through his head, a harsh command slamming into his depression without mercy. 'Not done with me yet,' Havoc thought bitterly, 'as if there is anything left of me that is useful. As if there is anything I can…'

Havoc's fingers stopped mid-wrapping and he brought his eyes up to meet Rebecca's, revelation hitting him like shotgun pellets. "What do you have planned for the next week?"

Rebecca look slightly taken aback. "Nothing to important I think," she answered cautiously staring at him as if she had just noticed something new about him, "Why?"

"I was thinking about sending someone over to Xing to pick up some supplies for me. I'd get them from around here, but the military keeps a pretty close eye on any large transports of weapons."

Rebecca gave a dazed nod, "You know someone in Xing that has access to armory?"

Havoc let himself lean back in his chair, "The store has a number of trade connections over there, normally we only deal with non-lethal goods when crossing the border, but I don't think that with the right funds my business associates will have any problems. Besides I already have one man over there that will no doubt be very eager to make whatever negotiations necessary to get us what we need."

Rebecca stood still apparently floored with amazement over the ingenuity of Havoc's plan, "We can't use military funds. How do you expect to pay for all of this?"

"The military gave me a severance pay after my injury. Seems like the military treats soldiers injured in the line of duty pretty well," Havoc said positively grinning up at Rebecca.

Rebecca seemed to consider it for a moment, weighting the potential complications against what was clearly her desire to gain a new source of power. "Will you be able to get me into Xing?"

"You wouldn't be the first person I've helped smuggle across the desert. And you won't even have to worry about riding horses this time; I'll send you off in your very own armored car."

Rebecca watched him for a moment before leaning down across the countertop so that she was at his level. Her face was surprisingly close to his, and the angle she was placed at gave Havoc ample opportunity to ogle her cleavage, which was rewarding in its own way even if his lower body was still unable to react. She stared long making Havoc increasingly agitated.

She smiled suddenly and drew herself back up to her full height. She appeared to have decided something during her strange scrutiny of him because her face had regained some of its smug appeal. "I got to say, Jean you look damn good with a beard. I'm in."

A somewhat stunned Havoc stared blankly up at her for a few minutes before an inescapable smile split his face ear to ear. That was by far the biggest boost his ego had received since his injury. Suddenly he didn't really feel like less of a man.

…

"I've never seen a model like this. Where did you get it?"

Havoc forced down a chuckle. Although Rebecca pretended otherwise, she could not help her love of all things lethal. "It's a new prototype from Xing. Since the first gun trade with them was so successful, my family decided to make it a regular thing."

"You'll give me a discount because I was a part of that first trade, right?" Havoc smirked in consent. He had figured that after the need for transferring information had passed Rebecca would pass his little town with it, but she hadn't. She used the excuse that she was visiting him to rest during her move from Eastern command to Central. She seemed to stop at his grubby little shop every time she made the track form Eastern to Central and vice-versa. It would have been easier for her to stay on the train, but he didn't mind her visits so he kept his mouth shut.

"You know Jean, now that the war's done you should think about moving back to Central," Rebecca said sprawling the gun she had been disassembling out on the floor to get a better look at the individual pieces. Havoc just stopped short of snorting. He had been hearing comments like that for weeks on his telephone from everyone from Second Lieutenant Breda to one clearly distraught call from Hughes's old subordinate Sheska. The only one who hadn't called had been his old superior.

But the war being over didn't mean he was any more fit for service than he had been when it was happening. "Nah," Havoc said trying to pull off a casual draw, "I make more money here anyways."

Rebecca was apparently unfazed by this; she continued to examine the pieces of the gun without protest to Havoc's comment. Havoc started to close his eyes figuring that Rebecca wasn't about to start a fight.

"Hey, Jean," Havoc opened his eyes surprised that Rebecca wanted to continue talking. She was seated at the foot on his wheelchair staring up at him with large bright eyes. She shifted so that she could rest her elbows on his legs so that her head was practically in his lap. "I was thinking why don't the two of us date."

Havoc felt his expression stiffen considerably. He knew that he should have seen this coming; what with the way she kept coming around and the comfortable atmosphere that had grown around them. He really wished she had badgered him about anything else even if that meant long conversations about his return to active service. It wasn't that he didn't like her, on the contrary had she made the same statement to him prior to his injury he probably wouldn't have hesitated.

As it was, a relationship was out of the question for him. Hell, he couldn't even feel the weight of her arms on his legs let alone function for her in other ways.

"All Central's got is cowardly men so I was thinking about importing some braver ones in," Rebecca said still smiling confidently up at him.

"I can't," Havoc croaked watching with horror as the confidence in Rebecca's eyes started to change into uncertainty. She pushed her hand down on the floor so that she could propel herself into a standing position. She started to make for the door walking without any apparent care for the dismantled gun pieces she had abandoned on the ground. "Rebecca," Havoc called out in frustration, "Don't just leave. You know I can't have a relationship in this state. Come on, don't storm out of here. It's not just my legs; I can't be there for you in other ways."

She half turned when she reached the door. Tears pooled at the bottom of her eyes threatening to spill over effectively making Havoc feel like a complete dick.

"Idiot," she yelled then threw open the shop door and disappeared from his sight.

"Ah, man," Havoc muttered looking down at the gun pieces she had left behind; he was never going to be able to bend down enough to reach them.

…

It had been a little over a week since Rebecca had stormed out of his shop; he hadn't heard from her since, but that was hardly surprising. He had to get his mom to clean up the gun fragments she left behind, which meant providing her with an explanation for why they had been left that way. His mom's frequent chiding over his action only served to increase the growing pit in his stomach telling him he made a mistake.

Logically he knew that the decision he had made would undoubtedly be a better one for Rebecca, who he was certain wouldn't have responded well to a life without sex; he knew he for one wasn't handling it well. But he could help, but feel dishearten that he wouldn't be able to expect any visitors in the near future.

It was hard for him to be content here. He had no one to talk to about his soldier days. He couldn't throw himself into relationships like he had in the past. He couldn't even masturbate. This was Hell.

The shop bell rang, and Havoc couldn't help feeling annoyed. He was sure he had put out the sign telling people that they were closed for the night. "The store isn't open," He yelled wheeling himself to the front door.

"I figured you might make an exception for an old superior, Second Lieutenant Havoc."

Havoc stared up in amazement as Mustang's face came into full view. "Colonel," Havoc whispered.

"Brigaded General now, actually," Mustang said with a hint of a smile, but still not meeting Havoc's eyes.

"No kidding, how'd you pull that one off?" Havoc said laughing suddenly feeling very glad to see his old boss, "come on in to the back, we can sit down and I'll get us something to drink."

Havoc turned and began wheeling towards the back when he heard a sharp grunt from behind him. Turning his head, he saw that Mustang had caught his side against one of the store's selves. Lieutenant Hawkeye, who along with a shorter man Havoc didn't recognize had followed Mustang inside at Havoc's invitation, hurried over to Mustang and forced her arm under his elbow so that she effectively steer him without any more trouble.

"Really boss, I know the lightings not too good in this place, but don't you think you might try to watch where you're walking," Havoc said eying Mustang suspiciously. Besides the occasions he had seen Hawkeye knock Mustang on his ass, he had never seen the man be so clumsy.

Mustang chuckled quietly, "I'm sorry how careless of me. Next time I won't make a mistake."

The atmosphere had shifted, but Havoc couldn't tell why. He led the small party to the back room of the shop and put on a kettle of tea. Hawkeye helped Mustang into a seat before pulling up her own chair to sit in. She sat closer to Mustang than Havoc had seen her sit next to him in the past, but Havoc didn't think that was particularly strange as he knew what their relationship was like with one another. The smaller man sat a little further off. Even though the man's head was bowed, Havoc could tell that his face was badly scared.

"Let's not dally about Havoc, I've come to bring you back," Mustang spouted slamming the glass Havoc had given him a little too hard on the table. Hawkeye's hand stretched out to wrap around the cup to ensure it didn't tip over.

Havoc watched him incredulously; he always knew that Mustang was determined, but to go this far for a subordinate was unbelievable.

Mustang's brows furrowed, "You're not saying anything, Havoc. Is there something wrong with your voice?"

"I thought my expression would have been enough," Havoc said answering Mustang's sarcasm with his own lesser version.

Mustang smiled the same way he smiled he had had after he bumped into the self when he first entered. Havoc didn't know why, but it unnerved him. In the past, Mustang had only ever given him that look when he saw the irony in a humorless situation. It was a bitter look more than anything else.

"It would seem I haven't been too good with reading people's expressions lately. My eyesight's not so good anymore; in fact, you might even say it's nonexistent."

"Colonel, you blind?" Havoc asked shock echoing in each syllable.

"Pretty ironic, right? The man who wanted nothing more than to see a new regime enters the new world unable to see a damn thing. Fate has quite the twisted sense of humor," Mustang said turning his head in the direction he had heard Havoc speak, "And I told you it's Brigade General now, not Colonel."

Havoc felt his whole body stiffen; this wasn't what he had risked his life to achieve. When he had thrown his lots in with Mustang, he had done so with the intention of making the man Fuhrer. Havoc and the rest of Mustang's subordinates were suppose to do the dirty work both to ensure that Mustang would be able keep his hands clean and to keep him from getting any permanent injuries; all of this they did so that when the time came to prop Mustang into the position of Fuhrer they could do so as easily as possible. But in a country still largely based on military finesse, no one was going to stand behind a blind leader.

"Isn't there something we can do? What about alchemy? Shouldn't there be some way to regain your sight," Havoc implored. Watching Mustang's defeat was like watching his own; he needed Mustang to succeed to fulfill his own ambitions and dreams.

Mustang laughed long and hard causing Hawkeye to question whether or not he was alright. When Mustang finished he smirked, looking, Havoc thought, way to smug for a blind man. "We'll if the tables haven't turned. I think I recall saying something pretty similar to that myself after you were injured."

For the moment at least, Havoc was glad Mustang wasn't able to see his face; the last thing he wanted was for his arrogant ex-boss to get even cockier.

"As it is," Mustang continued gracefully ignoring Havoc's embarrassment, "I do have a solution for getting my eyesight back so long as you're willing to help me."

"You found a way!" Havoc exclaimed barely restraining his excitement.

Mustang nodded curtly before calling over his shoulder, "Dr. Marco would you be so kind as to show the lieutenant that thing."

The scarred man stood up and fumbled in his coat for a minute before drawing out something from one pocket. He held out his hand to Havoc and pushed something cold into Havoc's hands. Slowly Havoc opened his cusped hands and looked at what the doctor had given him. A blood colored stone rested on the palm of his hand.

Havoc almost dropped it in surprised. "Jesus! Is that…"

"That's right; a philosopher stone."

Havoc exhaled sharply. "So you plan to use that thing to fix your eyes?"

"Only if you're willing to use it to fix your legs first."

"I don't know boss, don't you think your kind of the priority here." Havoc said pushing the stone across the table towards Mustang.

"What good are my eyes if I don't have any subordinates to direct with them? I need my men Havoc and I need them to be able to move." Mustang ran his hand over the table searching for the stone until Hawkeye's hand covered his and directed him to it. Mustang held the stone out in front of him towards Havoc. "Use it soldier," he said.

Havoc hesitated as he stared at the stone which seemed to feel the whole room with a reddish haze. He thought about what it would be like to rejoin his old group again. He thought about how much more powerful he would feel when he would be able to hold a gun in his hands and know that he had the option to run, and only chose not to. He thought about Rebecca's cleavage and standing with her leg around his waist while he held her airborne up against a wall.

He reached out and took the stone.

…

Havoc winced as a shot of pain traveled up his foot towards his thigh; it was like stepping on electric needles, worst than that it was like having someone simultaneously tear every nerve ending in his leg. The physical pain was worse than he had ever endured in the hospital or afterwards in his parent's shop, but at least it was no longer Hell.

The pain was a sign that he was regaining feeling in his legs. It was the most welcome feeling in the world. After only a week of therapy, he could stand again. In three weeks, he was walking. The doctors were amazed to say that he was going to make a complete recovery.

Mustang's eyes were healing to although not as fast as Havoc was. Because Mustang refused to use the stone until after Havoc, the effects of the stone had weakened by the time it was Mustang's turn. He could see but the image was blurry, and Marco predicted that it would be months before full sight returned. He had felt guilty using the stone before Mustang, but that guilt had passed a few mornings later when he woke up to the first erection he had had since his spine had been injured.

Since returning to Central, Havoc, to his horror, found that he was expected to stay at the hospital until they could be sure he was improving. Although he didn't really want to be there, Havoc had to admit that this trip to the hospital was not nearly as bad as the first. While they still limited him to one cigarette a day, Havoc at least now had the freedom to move about. With a physical therapist he began to become reacquainted with his limbs and was improving so quickly that the therapist was at his wit's end to discover what method Havoc was using.

With a cheerful sigh, Havoc stepped off the treadmill which he had been slowly walking on for nearly an hour now. He figured it was time for him to retire from the hospital gym and make his way back up to his room. Hell, maybe he would even take the stairs to get there.

A person leaning with her back against the door made him stop in place. Rebecca, once again out of uniform and with her long hair pulled back, watched him nervously as she thumbed over the small stack of papers in her hands.

Havoc smiled feeling his old confidence return to him. "Hey, Rebecca; I missed you."

"I heard you were getting better," she said focusing her attention on shuffling through the stack of papers in her hands, "I have something here for you if you'd give me second to find it."

"I was actually hoping to find you after I got a little better," Havoc said moving so that he hovered over her, "I was wondering if maybe you would just forget about me being an ass, and go out with me anyways."

A faint slightly angry brush painted her cheeks. "Oh, why the sudden change of heart?"

"Not a change of heart, just of body," Rebecca stubbornly turned her head to the side, and Havoc smiled figuring that this was her way of snubbing him after he had turned her down, "Come on Rebecca, I might not have very much money, but at least I have a history of spending every dollar I make on women. So even if I'm not your ideal guy, I can still make up for it in other ways."

Rebecca pursed her lips tightly, and Havoc started to doubt if his confidence was in fact justified. After a few minutes, Rebecca turned her still flushed face towards him. "Never turn me down again," she stated pushing a document hard against his chest.

Havoc caught the hand before she could pull away. He gave it a squeeze as he took the document from her. "I'll never need to," Havoc said feeling elation flood through every inch of him, legs and all.

He was still riding an adrenaline high as Rebecca walked him back to his room. It was only after they had nearly reached his door that he remembered the document Rebecca had given him. Looking down at it Havoc quickly read through it.

"What, you got to be kidding me," Havoc shouted, "that two faced bastard."

"Eh," Rebecca said pulling the document down to her eye-level, "what's up?"

"That bastard Mustang is going to make me pay back the severance pay I got when I retired. He says that since I'll be returning to active duty and no longer am disabled the military finds all my previous severance to be void. That double-crosser, he knows I used that to finance his little war."

"So what are you going to do?"

Havoc looked sheepishly down at her, "Well, I can't give back what I don't have so I'll probably have to pay a portion of my salary each week to the military until it's paid back. I hope you don't mind cheap dates for awhile."

Rebecca sighed heavily placing a hand on her forehead, "Why is it that I always end up with broke guys." Shaking her head, she stumbled down the hall leaving Havoc to content with a whole new set of troubles.

Ok for some reason it's not going to let me indent my paragraphs on FanFiction. Sorry about that.


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